


Soul Worn Thin

by GotTheSilver



Series: Supernatural Codas [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s12e07 Rock Never Dies, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8738494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: post 12.07*
  “Cas, stop,” Dean interrupts, tugging at his hand.  “What you need is to be here, with me, so we can fight Lucifer together.  You don’t need to be running off half cocked, or with Crowley, when you got me and Sam.”

  Cas huffs, his jaw clenched as he sits next to Dean.  “I feel useless,” he says.  “More so than when I didn’t have my powers.  If Lucifer doesn’t have a plan, that means we have to wait to see what he does.”

  “Yeah, we do.  But that’s how it is,” Dean says.  “We prepare, we try and come up with a way to get him back in the cage, and when he pops back up, we’ll be there to stuff his ass back inside.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> post 12.07.
> 
> [on tumblr](http://motleywolf.tumblr.com/post/153998876882/1207-coda-deancas-18k)

Cas comes back to the bunker with them; they all need to regroup, and after what happened at the venue, Dean doesn’t really want to let Cas out of his sight for too long. He’s not okay with how easily Cas was ready to sacrifice himself if it would stop Lucifer, and he’s definitely not going to let him go off on a Lucifer hunt alone, or with Crowley, not after this.

It’s a goddamn long drive back from LA, somehow it feels longer than the drive there, and by the time they make it back, Dean just wants to collapse into bed, preferably with Cas. “Anyone want anything to eat?”

“No,” Sam says, running his hands through his hair. “I’m gonna crash.”

Dean nods in acknowledgement and reaches out, taking Cas’ hand. “Sure, Sammy. See you in the morning.”

Cas hasn’t said a word since they got home, and stays silent as they walk through to Dean’s bedroom. Their bedroom, maybe, if Cas wants it to be, they haven’t really discussed it. Dropping his duffle on the floor, Dean sits on the edge of the bed, still holding on to Cas’ hand. “Well. That was something,” Dean says, looking up at Cas. “You gonna sit?”

“Dean—”

“What?”

“I should’ve gone with Crowley,” Cas says. “I need to find Lucifer, I—”

“Cas, stop,” Dean interrupts, tugging at his hand. “What you need is to be here, with me, so we can fight Lucifer together. You don’t need to be running off half cocked, or with Crowley, when you got me and Sam.”

Cas huffs, his jaw clenched as he sits next to Dean. “I feel useless,” he says. “More so than when I didn’t have my powers. If Lucifer doesn’t have a plan, that means we have to wait to see what he does.”

“Yeah, we do. But that’s how it is,” Dean says. “We prepare, we try and come up with a way to get him back in the cage, and when he pops back up, we’ll be there to stuff his ass back inside.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It has to be,” Dean says, pressing a kiss against the corner of Cas’ mouth. “We don’t have anything else.”

Cas sighs, turning his head to face Dean. “You’re enough,” Cas says, his lips brushing against Dean’s mouth. “If I have you, then—”

“You always have me, Cas. Always.” Dean’s free hand comes up to cup Cas’ face, his thumb stroking along Cas’ cheekbone as he kisses Cas; Cas’ hand grips his tightly, and Dean lets himself get lost in the kiss, taking as much as Cas is willing to give of himself. Drawing back to breathe, Dean looks at Cas. “You good?”

“Very,” Cas says, swiping his tongue over Dean’s bottom lip, and Dean can’t stop himself from catching Cas’ mouth in another kiss. Deepening it, Dean moves his hand until he’s got a grip on the lapel of Cas’ coat.

“Off,” Dean mumbles against Cas’ mouth, tugging at the fabric, wanting to get his hands on Cas’ skin. “Cas, c’mon, please.”

“You too,” Cas says as he pulls back, running his hands over the leather jacket Dean’s wearing. “You kept this.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, keeping his eyes on Cas as Cas stands up, taking his coat off and walking towards the hooks on the wall. “I like it. Could get you one.”

Cas hums thoughtfully as he slips out of his suit jacket, hanging it up along with his coat. “I’ll stick with what I have,” he says, turning around to face Dean.

“If you insist,” Dean says, getting off the bed and taking his own jacket off. Walking over to Cas, he leans past him and hangs it on a hook, chest brushing against Cas’ arm as he does so.

“Dean.” Cas catches Dean’s arm, running his hand down Dean’s bare skin exposed by the thin t-shirt he’s wearing, and Dean closes his eyes for a moment at the touch, sucking in a breath when Cas’ other hand slides underneath his shirt, fingers pressing against Dean’s stomach. “Oh,” Cas says, as he leans in, his mouth pressing softly against Dean’s jaw in an open mouthed kiss. “Okay.”

“Cas, I—” Dean’s words are cut off by Cas’ mouth on his, and Dean falls into it, his own hands pulling Cas’ shirt out of his pants so he can grab on to the heated skin of Cas’ hip and pull him a little closer. The hand Cas has against Dean’s stomach slips out from underneath his t-shirt and curls around Dean’s waist; they’re all tangled up in each other to the point where Dean would be happy staying like this forever, but then Cas is sliding a thigh between his legs and Dean wants nothing more than to get them to the damn bed.

Pulling away from Cas, Dean takes the few steps towards the bed and sits down to take his boots and socks off; after a moment the bed dips beside him and Cas does the same, placing them next to each other. Dean shuffles his way up the bed, still dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, and raises an expectant eyebrow at Cas, his face softening into a smile when Cas joins him. Cas’ shirt is askew, and Dean reaches for Cas’ tie, lightly tugging until Cas’ face is near his. “Hi,” Dean says, undoing Cas’ tie and throwing it aside.

“Does this mean I can throw your clothes around the room?” Cas asks, tugging at the neck of Dean’s t-shirt.

“Not a chance,” Dean says, kissing the wrinkle between Cas’ eyebrows that appears when he frowns. “But I will take it off.” With that, he wriggles and pulls his t-shirt off over his head, dropping it on the floor behind him. He reaches for Cas’ shirt, fingers fumbling as he undoes the buttons; this isn’t new, but Dean doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing the very human reactions Cas has when they do this. Cas could snap his fingers and bring the world to it’s knees, but when Dean brushes a hand over Cas’ bare chest, Cas just bites his bottom lip and looks like the very basest sin.

From there, it’s like the world narrows down to only them; Dean manages to get Cas’ shirt off, and it takes all he has to stop touching Cas so he can get out of the rest of his clothes, Cas doing the same. Looking Cas over, Dean moves until he can brush his lips over Cas’ jaw. “Gorgeous,” Dean says, trailing kisses along Cas’ neck. Dean doesn’t trust himself to put into words what he’s feeling; how terrified he is that one day Cas will end up sacrificing himself for no damn reason, how he doesn’t know how he’ll cope if Cas ever does that, how he’d burn down the world if it meant he could keep Cas safe with him.

He doesn’t know how to say it, so he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at Cas, running a hand down the side of Cas’ face, pressing his thumb against the plushness of Cas’ bottom lip, and raises an eyebrow. When Cas nods, Dean reaches under his pillow for the lube and quickly slicks up his fingers; it’s almost like Dean loses time as he slides his fingers inside Cas, getting lost in the slight noises that Cas lets out, the twitch of Cas’ cock as Dean kisses the dip of his hip, working his fingers in and out until Cas’ grip on the sheets is almost tearing them.

Hitching Cas’ legs up, Dean pushes inside slowly, grinning at the frustrated look on Cas’ face and the bitten out “ _Dean_ ,” that falls from Cas’ lips. Cas is it for Dean, he’s known it since the first time he allowed himself to accept what Cas means to him, and all he really wants is for Cas to stay with him. For one person he loves to not leave him.

Trying to put what he’s feeling into his actions, Dean moves a little faster, curling over Cas’ body, sucking in a breath when Cas’ cock rubs up against his stomach. “I got you,” Dean says, swiping his tongue along Cas’ bottom lip. “Always.” There’s a coiling in his gut that’s all too familiar to Dean, and he tries to hold out, doesn’t want this to end so soon, but it’s been too long since he’s had Cas like this and—. “Fuck,” he breathes out against Cas’ mouth, eyes wide as he comes.

Cas’ hands stroke along Dean’s back as Dean rides out his orgasm, and when Dean goes to pull out, Cas grips at Dean’s body, shaking his head. “Touch me,” Cas says, and Dean can’t do anything but obey, awkwardly sliding a hand between their bodies. At the touch of Dean’s hand, Cas swears softly, and hearing that coming from an angel is never going to get old for Dean. It doesn’t take long before Cas is spilling over Dean’s hand, his head thrown back, and Dean lets go of Cas’ cock to lean down, pressing his lips against Cas’ neck in a soft kiss.

“I missed this,” Dean says as he pulls out, wiping his hand on the sheets before curling up next to Cas, smiling as Cas rolls on to his side and tangles their legs together. “Missed you.”

“You are definitely a better companion than Crowley.”

Dean makes a face and shudders. “If you’re doing that with Crowley, I need to take a shower in bleach.” Laughing when Cas pushes at his shoulder, Dean sits up, reaching for the blankets at the bottom of the bed, tugging them up until they’re both covered. They should probably get cleaned up, but part of Dean likes the fact that they’re both covered in the evidence of what they just did; it’s something tangible for him to hold on to and he feels like he needs that.

Laying down, head against the pillow, Dean lifts his arm up and Cas shuffles closer, resting his head against Dean’s chest. “You’re staying, right?” Dean asks, fingers tapping against Cas’ skin.

“There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be,” Cas says, his hand making it’s way to Dean’s stomach, fingers running along the soft skin. “Dean, I—when I leave, it’s not that I want to. I’d still rather be here.”

The memory hits Dean like a freight train and he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Still?”

“Of course, Dean.”

It’s not as if things are perfect; they’ll have to face Lucifer again soon, Dean’s gotta deal with trying to make sure Cas doesn’t get himself killed when they do face him, plus he’s trying to work up the courage to ask Mary to come back to the bunker for Christmas, but maybe—maybe if he has Cas to hang on to and Cas has him to hang on to, somehow they’ll be okay.


End file.
